All language subtitles for New Tricks S05E01 Spare Parts.DVDRip.NonHI.en.ACORN

Say hello to the wife, Jack.

Oh!

Hello?

Careful what you
say in court, Jack.

Think of your loved ones.

Ones you got left, anyway.

♪ It's all right, it's okay ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪

♪ It's all right, I
say it's okay ♪

♪ Listen to what I say ♪

♪ It's all right, doing fine ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪

♪ It's all right, I
say it's okay ♪

♪ We're getting to
the end of the day ♪

Subtitling made
possible by Acorn Media

Charles Preston.

This is Detective
Superintendent Pullman,

Gerry Standing, Brian Lane.

How do?

Well, it's not often Mr. Hanson
gets his day in court.

So on behalf of the
great British public,

thank you very much.

We've got a good
case, haven't we?

I mean, the evidence
is overwhelming.

Ask me again in a fortnight.

I'm asking you now.

Mr. Halford, 12 months ago
Ricky Hanson tried to kill you

as you lay defenseless
in a hospital bed.

So I appreciate your
desire to see justice done.

But I'm a barrister,
not a bookmaker.

I don't think Jack wanted odds.

Just reassurance.

Hanson is represented
by Mr. Ian Figgis.

He's shrewd, thorough,
and highly competent.

What's the good news?

That Hanson is not
only a career criminal,

but also an arrogant
and helpless liar.

You missed out murderer.

The three of you will be called

sometime over the next
few days to give evidence.

But I'd like to keep you
in reserve, Mr. Standing,

if that's all right?

Always the bridesmaid.

And one final thing.

In your statements,

you refer to the crash
at the Black Boy pub...

Hanson's regular haunt...

That led to you
being hospitalized,

but not what you were
doing there exactly.

They thought I was
going to kill Hanson.

I didn't quite catch that.

As he was going to
be with Ricky Hanson,

we were concerned
for Jack's safety.

Supposed to be good, isn't he?

I'll tell you that
in a fortnight.

So, what do we do?

What do we do if they
ask about the crash?

We keep calm for Jack's sake.

We agree on our
story and stick to it.

Jack?

Jack Halford?

Sam Tallis!

It's a long time since you
found yourself in this madhouse.

Is it getting to you?

Oh, just listening
to a barrister

teaching me how to suck eggs.

That wouldn't be

the Crown v. Ricky
Hanson, would it?

Charles Preston.

- Charlie's not your darling?
- Not at the moment, no.

- You know him?
- I should do.

I've been his
clerk for 20 years.

So... So how are you, Samson?

All the better for seeing you.

And I'd be right in thinking
that this chance meeting

is nothing of the kind?

Five years ago a woman came
to me looking for representation.

She'd heard I was fair-minded

and unlikely to judge people
by dint of their profession.

She was what we used
to call a lady of the night.

They call themselves
escorts now.

We still call them toms.

Let him tell his story.

Said escort... her name's
Carrie Soper, by the way...

Told me a man
called Ralph Wheeler

had left her £3 million.

Ralph's brother
contested the will.

On what grounds?

Two weeks after he
changed it in Carrie's favor,

Ralph was murdered.

Ah.

Ralph's brother was convinced

Carrie'd only met him
three months earlier.

She told me she'd known
Ralph for four years,

that she was very fond of him.

I thought she was straight.

And so did the lawyer
I set her up with.

And his lordship
awarded her the money.

As you can imagine,
Carrie was very grateful.

She showed her
generosity in various ways,

and we became good friends.

And before you ask...

Yes, she made an
old man very happy.

Until?

Last week, when she
made a happy man very old.

She took me to
lunch at The Armature

and over brandy told
me she'd met Ralph

in that very restaurant.

That would have
been nine years ago.

Only The Armature wasn't
a restaurant nine years ago.

It was a theatrical costumiers.

So now you're wondering
if the brother was right?

And with my help she's
banked a cool three million.

Ralph Wheeler, murdered
in his own hallway,

June 16th, five years ago.

Shotgun blast to the face.
The killer was never caught.

- Row with the neighbors?
- I think not.

Whoever it was, was very tidy.

There was no cartridge
case, no fingerprints,

footprints, DNA... nothing.

Professional hit. What
about the man himself?

Gentle. Shy. Kept
himself to himself.

Although he did receive
a letter from vice in 1987

suggesting that he might
like to give up curb crawling.

So the chances
are he was a punter,

which would account for
him knowing Carrie Soper.

There is another reason why
they might have known each other.

Ralph set up a charity
called Restore Now.

It was to help victims
of violent crime.

Girls on the game, mostly.

He didn't leave all
his money to Carrie.

He left four million
to Restore Now.

- Run by?
- His brother.

Rock-solid alibi. Not a suspect.

Name's Piers.

I still like Carrie
for this one.

Yes, but why didn't the
original murder team?

They did.

But her alibi was good,

and she came across
as being genuinely upset.

Okay. Go ahead.

So this is what money
buys you in W10?

Notting Hill? No thanks.

It's all kippers and curtains.

Hey?

Fur coat and no knickers.

See what I mean?

Sorry, love, I don't do
party bookings anymore.

Police.

You can say "please"
all you like. It's still no.

Inside, Carrie.

In your dreams.

I was just on my way out.

Detective
Superintendent Pullman.

We're here to talk to
you about Ralph Wheeler.

You can't have him. He's dead.

Very. Any idea why?

There you got me.

In which case let me ask you...

How long did you
know Mr. Wheeler?

Was it four years
or three months?

Ah. How is Sam?

He's as anxious
to find Ralph's killer

as we are, Miss Soper.

He's very unhappy
that you lied to him.

We're very unhappy that you
lied to the original murder team.

So what exactly was your
relationship with Ralph?

We were extremely good friends.

Really? After three months?

You make friends quickly.

You're old style,
aren't you? Old Bill.

She's harder, newer, hard-assed.

Always out to prove she's
got bigger balls than any of you.

Am I right?

Look, lovely, you can
either talk to me here

or the neighbors can watch
you drag that nice fur coat

into the back of a big white
van with all its lights going.

Have you got a problem
with working girls?

You couldn't be more wrong.

Maybe not when they're
victims, all sad and helpless.

But when they've done
all right for themselves,

that's something else, isn't it?

Ralph's will was
hardly just "all right."

Well, I didn't know there
was a will until your lot told me.

In that moment I got
my one chance to get out.

Out from under the
hundreds of fat, sweaty blokes

it takes to make a living.

And that's all he was to you?

A fat, sweaty punter
who gave you a way out?

No. I told you, I liked Ralph.

He was wonderful to me.

In that last three months,
we were hardly apart.

But if I'd had told the
murder squad that,

would they have believed me?

Anyway, like I said, I didn't
know about the money.

Okay. But why
leave it all to you?

Oh, don't get me wrong... Your
qualities are ample and clear.

But £3 million worth?

Listen, I didn't go
looking for Ralph.

He found me. He sought me out.

Couple of months
after the accident.

What accident?

When Naomi died. His daughter.

He was driving her home
one night, nodded off.

Bang. Big pileup.

This is her.

Naomi Wheeler.

What can you see?

Look me in the eyes.

You're nothing like her.

In one particular
we're identical.

These were hers.

Not the whole eyeball,
just the corneas.

So you see, I have a hell of
lot to thank the Wheelers for.

And Ralph deserved a lot better.

You're saying to me that

that's how you met
Ralph Wheeler?

You received his
daughter's corneas,

and he came looking for you?

He turned up one day
talking about his charity.

I invited him in.

Next thing, he's
talking ten to the dozen

about his darling daughter.

Three months later, he
leaves me three million quid.

She wants us to believe

that three months after
Naomi Wheeler died,

her dad pops 'round to get
close to his daughter's eyeballs,

falls for the tart with a heart
and leaves her a fortune.

Well, if he was
grief-stricken, why not?

There is mention
of a crash in the file.

Yeah, but no link
to Ralph's murder.

Well, why would there be?
It was only himself to blame.

Well, I still want to
check out her story.

Meantime, you two
can go and see Piers.

Unbelievable.

Ralph spends half his
life helping victims of crime

and ends up leaving
a fortune to a woman

they'll have to bury
in a Y-shaped coffin.

Do you mean Carrie Soper?

Prostitutes aren't
criminals, Mr. Wheeler.

No?

So what do you call a
woman who swindles

three million quid from charity?

The will still saw £4 million
come to Restore Now.

Must be in pretty healthy shape.

No thanks to Ralph.

And now you run
Restore Now, right?

I always did.

Ralph preferred swanning
around, being an angel of mercy.

And how does that work, then?
You get a salary or something?

Correct.

And who decides
how much you're paid?

Wouldn't be you by any chance?

My salary is commensurate
with the rates paid to CEOs

of other similar-sized
organizations.

Now, unless you're the
victims of recent violence...

Were you close to Ralph?

He was my brother.

And how was he in the
months before he died?

You know about Naomi, do you?

Well, after she died,
Ralph shut himself away.

Became very hard to get hold of.

Made things very difficult
here, especially for me.

And then he died.

Ralph was an idealist.

He liked to think
everybody had good in them.

I know better.

Sorry to keep you.

Mr. Capshaw?

Detective
Superintendent Pullman.

- This is Jack Halford. UCOS.
- How do you do?

Gather you're reexamining
the death of Ralph Wheeler.

Terrible.

Especially in the light of
what happened to his daughter.

Thank you.

Naomi died in your
clinic, is that right?

Yes.

I operated on her the night of
her accident at Acton General.

But, um, Naomi's chances
were pretty slim from the start.

When she remained comatose,

her father wanted her
taken somewhere more...

Expensive?

Comfortable.

You also arranged for
the cornea transplant.

When Ralph agreed to
turn off her life support,

I persuaded him it would
be a worthwhile thing to do.

Several of her organs were
still in very good condition.

Several?

Heart. Liver.

One of her kidneys.

They were all removed and
placed on transplant registers.

I have an arrangement
with the NHS

that allows me to carry
out procedures at my clinic.

How many people
received Naomi's organs?

Um, four.

Yes, four, I think.

What if I wanted to
obtain those names?

Could I do that?

No, I'm afraid not.

A kind of medical provenance
goes with each organ.

But when they're assigned,
the data's destroyed.

So how did Naomi's father
track down one of the recipients?

I... I don't know.

It's not that hard
to work out, Jack.

Ralph Wheeler
was a very rich man.

Are you suggesting that I...

Could we have
those names, please?

Three women and a man.

Corneas, heart, liver, kidney.

Sounds like a recipe
from the River Cottage.

Brian Lane, UCOS.

No, but what I don't get is

what's the big deal
with the corneas?

I mean, if it had been me,

I would have found the
person who had the heart.

Only 'cause you ain't got one.

Maybe Ralph did find
the one with the heart.

How do we know he
didn't track them all down?

And he upset one of them,

and they blew his face away?

Why would you murder somebody

whose daughter's spare
parts saved your life?

Well, unless we track them
down, we won't know, will we?

So we start tomorrow.

Not me.

I'm in court.

Oh. Right.

You all right, mate?

Yeah. Fine.

Looking forward to it.

Battle of wills
with the defense.

Just like old times.

I was always good in
court, wasn't I, Jack?

Just remember to...
keep your wits about you.

Don't you worry.

I'm ready for 'em.

I've got a little plan.

Mr. Lane, I put it to you

that you were in that
ward with one intention

and one intention only.

To murder my client!

And did you?

Of course I didn't. Come on.

Are you sure?

What? What are
you talking about?

I thought you wanted me to
be more biting and incisive.

No. No, no, no.

You can't just switch in
and out of character like that!

Well, if you're going to fall
for a simple trick like that...

No. No. Stop, stop, stop.

- Start again.
- Do we have to?

Yes, of course.

It's vital that we do
some sort of role play.

- Chance would be a fine thing.
- What?

Look, all you have to do is
stand up and tell the truth.

And wear a suit.

I am not wearing a suit.

It's important to make
a good impression.

I have to be comfortable.

If I wear a suit,

I shan't be able to
concentrate, to remember...

Of course you will.

You've got a memory
like an elephant.

You've given
evidence lots of times.

- Not sober, though.
- No.

Well, just think how proud

we'll all be of you
tomorrow when you do.

Trussed up like a ruddy turkey.

I shan't be able to think,
let alone bear witness.

Don't be silly.

It's like riding a bike.

And there'll be none
of that tomorrow either.

I am not wearing a bloody suit.

Yes, you are. And no swearing.

He is very rarely late.

Then this is one of
those rare occasions.

Brian! Brian!

Is it me, or has
he got shoes on?

I presume the coat
does unbutton?

Take it off.

- It's me lucky coat.
- Take it off!

Oh, bloody hell.

Yeah, I know, I know.
I look a right pillock.

You look magnificent.

Esther told you to say that.

Who'd have thought it, eh?

I'll see you inside, Mr. Lane.

You all right?

Yeah. Of course.

I'll see you later.

And then what did you do?

I picked up an oxygen cylinder

and struck the defendant
on the back of the head.

Knocking him out.

Yes, knocking him out and
saving Jack Halford's life.

Thank you, Mr. Lane.

No further questions.

Mr. Lane.

Here's a radical thought.

What if my client

went to visit Mr. Halford
on the night in question

for some reason other
than to murder him?

- I can't think of one.
- No?

What if Mr. Hanson had gone
to make peace with Jack Halford?

- Jack would never entertain it.
- I see.

You're saying Jack Halford
doesn't want reconciliation.

Does that explain why my client

met with violence
at the hospital?

He was the one
dishing out the violence.

Mr. Lane, am I right in thinking

that you are a
recovering alcoholic?

Objection. This is outrageous.

Sustained.

Mr. Figgis, I shan't
warn you again.

Begging your pardon, your honor,

but I assure you
that certain aspects

of the witness's character

have a vital
bearing on the case.

I shall be the judge of that.

Mr. Lane, you received
certain medication

during your time in hospital

for injuries you received
in a car accident.

Yes.

Am I right in thinking that
this necessitated the cessation

of certain other medication
you were on at the time?

Tem... Temporarily.

What was or is the
nature of the medication

you were forced to stop taking?

Objection.

Overruled. For now.

There are several drugs.

They control hypertension,
mood swings, stress.

Various chemical imbalances.

Imbalances? Where?

Imbalances where, Mr. Lane?

Well, in... in the brain.

So on the night in
question it is possible

that you were not, how
shall I put it, yourself?

That's absolute rubbish.

You were on crutches,
without the sight of one eye,

and had not taken your
drugs whose express purpose

is to maintain your
psychological equilibrium

for over three days.

Objection.

Overruled.

Mr. Lane, am I right in saying

you retired as a
Metropolitan Police officer

on the grounds of ill health?

That was six years ago.

Six years during which

you have to take
a series of drugs

to maintain your physical
and mental well-being

every single day.

Have you ever stopped
taking your drugs

at any other time
during that period?

Once or twice.

And what was the result?

What was the result, Mr. Lane?

I am not mad.

It's a chemical imbalance.

He's the madman!

H-He's the nutter who
was trying to kill us!

Look at him! He's
a bloody maniac!

No further
questions, your honor.

Tara Pride.

18 months for receiving.
And I don't mean a new heart.

Tara?

Got a little present for you.

- Oh, you can come again.
- Unh-unh-unh!

No gain without pain.

- Ralph Wheeler.
- Who?

You recognize him, then?

Oh, come on, sweetheart.

Yeah. I knew him. The weirdo.

Come in the shop pretending
he wanted to buy antiques.

We start chatting and stuff.

And then he lets on how my
heart used to be his daughter's

and how disappointed he was

to hear that it had
gone to an ex-con.

That offended you, did it?

Oh, but then he says
maybe it's a good thing

because now I'd been
given the driving force

that used to be Naomi Wheeler.

And if I played me cards
right I'd soon be just like her.

Bright, elegant, beautiful.

What did you say?

I said, "Listen, the last
thing I need's another dad.

The one I had
was a right bastard.

So if you're not buying,
piss off and don't come back."

Do you remember where you
were the day he was murdered?

Oh, it was five years ago.

Try, Tara. Try really hard.

June 16, 2003. It was a Monday.

Well, I would have been in
me shop flogging antiques.

- Flogging or fencing?
- That's where I was.

I'm sorry, um... I
wonder if you could help.

I'm looking for a Kate Iley.

You're about five years
and 12,000 miles too late.

I'm John Iley. Kate's husband.

I built this place up for her.

And now you're letting
it fall down again. Why?

Kate went for
dialysis twice a week

until one of the technicians
took a fancy to her.

Then it was three
times. Then four.

When the new kidney was
up and running, so were they.

You ever see this man?
The name is Ralph Wheeler.

Oh, yeah. Kidney donor's father.

He was here nonstop in the
weeks following the transplant.

- We couldn't get rid of him.
- Really?

Felt sorry for him at first.

But then he starts
saying stuff like,

isn't it odd that Kate had taken
a small piece of his daughter

but somehow became
more like her every day?

How did she take it?

Kate? Couldn't give a toss.

Her and Marco had bigger plans.

Orchard in New Zealand.

In the end, had to
give Wheeler a slap.

Told him not to come back.

Slap?

Oh, just a punch on the nose.

He got the message.

Purdey.

Isn't she lovely?

Always wanted one.

Any idea where you
were on June 16, 2003?

Yes, as it happens.

Somewhere in the Caribbean.

Three-week cruise
on the Viking Princess.

I just spend money on me now.

Michael Savage?

Detective
Superintendent Pullman.

Do you know this man?

Ralph pals up to Carrie Soper,

Tara Pride, and Kate Iley
but not Michael Savage.

He seeks out the
three female recipients

but not the man... Why?

Because she was a woman.

He wants his daughter
back, even if it's only by proxy.

Really?

Sure he wasn't
just a curb crawler

indulging in some
bizarre sex fantasy?

You've got to admit
it is a bit weird.

Ralph Wheeler loses
the light of his life.

Suddenly he's alone,
desperate, guilt-ridden.

He was clutching at straws.

Well, someone killed him.

And that three million quid
makes Carrie Soper favorite.

I don't think so.

The only thing I got from Carrie
was that she cared about Ralph.

And I think it was reciprocal.

I mean, what about the pileup?

What if Ralph wasn't
the only angry relative?

There were only two other cars
involved, and no one else died.

Took Mary two years to die.

And while we're
talking anger and grief,

what about the boyfriend?

Naomi's supposed to be
a bright, good-looking girl,

heiress to a fortune.

There must be a boyfriend.

Or am I just being
old-fashioned?

Now, that is a very good point.

Ah! How'd it go?

Yeah. Good.

Fine.

Good.

Eh, Preston's changed his mind.

Says can you be there
tomorrow after lunch?

Yeah, great.

So where are we?

I thought I could cope.

I couldn't.

He as much as said
so. The barrister.

Not that I needed telling.

I let Jack down.

I failed and he knows it.

You told the truth.

It's not enough.

The system doesn't
reward the truth.

I failed.

Were you sober?

Of course I was.

Then you didn't fail.

Not at all.

Yesterday in the witness box...

Hanson's brief...

He just ended up
chucking mud at me.

Making out I was not all there.

They're trying to
discredit us, Jack... UCOS.

Well, that's good. Means
they've got nothing else.

Means they're desperate.

Look, I can't keep interrupting
what is a very busy schedule.

Have you ever given
evidence in a murder trial, mate?

- Certainly not.
- Well, I just have.

So pack it in and
answer the questions!

I must apologize for my
colleague, Mr. Capshaw.

He's very excitable.

Now, you can tell us. The
crash that killed Naomi...

Did you attend to any
of the other victims?

Uh, yes. But there was only one.

A name would help.

Um...

Davis. Bella Davis.
Wasn't wearing a seat belt.

- Was she badly injured?
- Very.

Although she hung
on for several months.

Survived by a son, Stephen.

She died?

She was out of my care by then.

I bet she was.

Hello. Someone's on the move.

Oh. Moonlight flit?

Yeah, all the way
down the street.

We're moving to better premises.

Better car, better secretary.

Look, I'm very busy.

Is there something specific
you wanted to know?

Do you know if your niece
had a boyfriend, Mr. Wheeler?

Um, yes.

Richard Manning.

He was an academic.

Went off to the States
soon after the crash.

Did he?

He was in the clinic every
day while Naomi was alive.

But when they turned
off the life support...

He's back in London
now. Came back last year.

Thank you.

Oh, uh, does all this
mean there's a chance

the money might...

Goodbye, Mr. Wheeler.

Hello, stranger.

Em!

- What you doing here?
- Giving evidence in court five.

- Hatton Garden raid.
- Oh, right.

Got a note from our brief

saying that you were
doing the same over here.

Your brief?

Yeah, he works in the same
chambers as a Mr. Figgis?

Oh.

Said how did I fancy
seeing my old man in action?

Mr. Gerald Standing.

Okay.

Watch and learn.

Mr. Standing, you've
just given the court

a very eloquent
account of events

leading up to
my client's arrest.

Thank you.

Which matches uncannily
with those related by Brian Lane.

It's very easy to
remember the truth.

In which case,

can you tell the court how
many children you have?

Four.

Are you sure?

Yes, I know how
many kids I've got.

Paula, Amelia, and Caitlin.

And Emily. Four. Four daughters.

Your service record says three.

You can ask me till
you're blue in the face.

I'll still have four daughters.

Your honor, can I
ask the relevance

of this line of questioning?

Indeed.

Mr. Figgis?

If you'll bear with
me a little, your honor,

I hope to make it plain.

Very well. But hurry up.

Mr. Standing, how
did you discover

that you had a fourth daughter?

She discovered me.

Her mother had kept her
existence a secret from me.

She's the result
of a relationship

we'd had years previously.

I see.

But you proved to
your own satisfaction

that Emily was your
biological daughter?

Your honor,
questions of paternity

are normally a case
for the family courts,

not a criminal one.

What I mean is, how did
you prove your paternity?

Is it possible that you utilized

the resources of
UCOS in some way?

Applying DNA testing

to a sample taken from
your daughter, for example?

Objection.

This is not only irrelevant
but it has no basis in fact.

Your honor, I am
simply trying to establish

the ethical standards
that prevail within UCOS.

The witness has only to
answer the question yes or no.

I would remind you, in
his own words, that he said,

"It is very easy to
remember the truth."

Overruled.

The witness will
answer the question.

Yes.

And what was the result?

Is Emily your
biological daughter?

Or are you restrained
from answering truthfully

by her presence in the gallery?

Yes.

She is my biological daughter.

Very well, Mr. Standing.

Em!

Em!

Emily, stop!

- You lied.
- What?

I saw you.

You couldn't say it
without hesitating.

You lied.

- Richard Manning?
- Hello.

Detective Superintendent
Pullman, UCOS.

We're reexamining the
Ralph Wheeler murder.

Why?

Because that's my job.

Well, I'm sorry.

I wasn't in the
country at the time.

No, you were at Harvard
University, teaching.

But it is only an
18-hour round trip.

Are you saying I'm a suspect?

Mr. Manning, this
will take a lot less time

if you start answering
questions instead of asking them.

Sorry. It's a habit.

And my job.

Okay.

The people we're looking
for fall into two camps.

Those who might have
lost a loved one in the crash

and blame Mr. Wheeler for it.

I see. And the second camp?

Someone who was close to
a recipient of Naomi's organs.

The truth is that Naomi and I
were breaking up at the time.

I was told that you
were at her bedside

every day until she died.

With Ralph. He was a decent
man and needed someone.

But it wasn't the
main reason I stayed.

What was?

The morning after the crash,

I heard Naomi's surgeon,
Capshaw, on his mobile phone.

He didn't know I was there.

He said... and I remember
it almost verbatim...

"I've got a perfect match.

The girl's young and healthy.

Her heart will be
available within the week."

He was promising
someone Naomi's heart?

- Did you tell her father?
- No.

I persuaded him to put
Naomi on the full donor list.

So she went into
the system proper.

All her organs were
on official registers.

That way Capshaw
couldn't pick and choose.

They had to go to recipients

according to need and
their place on the list.

You should have
gone to the police.

With what? A phone
call no one else heard?

How could I possibly prove
anything against Capshaw?

I did tell Ralph in the end.

But it wasn't till about
five months later.

I rang him from the States.

And don't know if he
did anything about it.

Someone shot him
before he got a chance.

GBH, armed robbery, extortion.

I wonder just how well
Bella Davis knew her son.

Permission to come
aboard, Mr. Davis?

Unsolved Crime and
Open Case Squad.

Step aboard, gentlemen.

It's one thing for
us to sympathize,

knowing you lost your
mum in a car crash.

It's another when we
know you've done time.

Yeah, no, I appreciate that.

But you must also appreciate

that the... the
death of a loved one,

you know, can be a
life-changing event.

Steve, Ralph Wheeler was shot.

Your record's full of guns.

Look, I am a reformed character.

That why you got "hate"
tattooed all over your knuckles?

Yeah, and "love" on the other.

You don't understand, gentlemen.

You see, quite early
on I realized Mum,

well, she wasn't actually dead.

She was just in the next room.

Or in my case, the next boat.

What, you mean you
bought two of them?

All right. So the money
did come in handy.

What money?

Oh, go on, Steve.

Tell us more about
your life-changing event.

Compensation. From
me mum's insurance.

Hundred grand.

That's the going rate
for a mother these days.

Nice boat.

Yes, very tidy.

Oh, yeah. It's got all the gear.

Had it all kitted
out and refitted.

- It's the dog's...
- June 16, 2003. Where were you?

I don't know offhand.
I can find out though.

You do that.

You can buy a lot of
boat for a hundred grand.

But not that much.

Thank you for seeing us at
such short notice, Mr. Blake.

Not at all. An informal
chat, my secretary said.

Stephen Davis.

You represented him
in an insurance claim.

Ah, yes. Largely
unsuccessfully, I'm afraid.

Unsuccessfully?

I only really agreed to take
him on as a favor to a friend.

Julian Capshaw.

- Dr. Capshaw?
- He was being badgered by Davis.

I think Julian found
him rather intimidating.

Why? Didn't he get any money?

Only the write-off
value of his car.

But not for his mother. She
wasn't wearing a seat belt.

I did warn him no insurer

would accept liability
in that situation.

And how did he
react to the decision?

I take it you've met him.

He was not happy.

Hmm.

I wasn't sorry to
end our association.

The Veiled Lady.

Valued at 350 grand
by Lloyd's six years ago

when it was owned by
Tall Tree Investments.

It was then registered in
Davis's name August 2003.

Just two months after
Ralph was murdered.

There's any number of ways
he could have got the money.

What? His mother's just died.

He's fighting an
insurance claim.

And meanwhile he
squeezes in another job

that bags him over 300 grand?

Yeah, I see what you mean.

We know he lied about
the Insurance money.

There's somebody else involved.

What about Manning,
Naomi's boyfriend?

Maybe he hired Davis.

It's much more
likely to be Capshaw.

Especially if Ralph
confronted him.

Jack?

Gerry's phone's still off.

It's a long time if
he's giving evidence.

He's in the pub.

Where's Emily now?

Don't know. She's not
answering her phone.

Not to me, anyway.

Cor, that Figgis
is a piece of work.

He's got to be bent.

How else would
he know that stuff?

Don't worry.
Juries aren't stupid.

Neither's the judge.

And they've still got
to hear you, Jack.

You and the governor.

Yeah, you two tomorrow
morning. Brilliant!

Case closed.

Mr. Strickland.

Is it true?

I'm afraid it is.
Elvis really is dead.

Don't act the fool with me.

Is it true what Hanson's
brief said about you

and your daughter's DNA test?

I'm afraid, sir, I'm not at
liberty to discuss evidence

given under oath
during an ongoing trial.

Sorry.

This is no joke.

Not this time.

Not a drinker, then.

Shit.

So what do we do?

What can we do?

They can carry on
working. We'll go to court.

Detective Superintendent,

you say that three days before

the alleged assault
at the hospital,

you and your colleagues
Brian Lane and Gerald Standing

drove to the Black Boy
public house in Eltham

because you were concerned
for Mr. Halford's safety.

Why?

Because he'd gone
there to see the accused.

Why would he do that?

- To talk to him.
- What about?

A few days before, Ricky
Hanson had told Jack Halford

that he'd killed Jack's wife.

And where did this alleged
conversation take place?

In the Black Boy pub.

What could he possibly
have wanted to talk about?

Objection.

Your honor, it is not
Mr. Halford who is on trial.

Mr. Figgis, get to the point.

Officer, when you crashed
into Jack Halford's car

in the car park of
the Black Boy pub,

what speed were you
traveling at approximately?

I don't know.

I have no recollection
of the actual crash.

Your car was written off.

Indeed, it ended
up some 20 yards

from the point of impact,

embedded in an
advertising hoarding.

Beggars belief that you could
have been doing anything less

than 40 miles an hour.

Mr. Hanson was in the car park
at the same time, was he not?

Apparently.

You've passed an
advanced motoring course

and are a designated
police driver, am I right?

Yes.

So can you explain to
me what you were doing

driving in such a
dangerous manner

in a car park containing
your colleagues

and close personal friend
Jack Halford and my client?

As I say, I don't recall.

I put it to you that, far from
being concerned for your friend,

you were in fact fearful

of Jack Halford's
intentions towards my client.

That you arrived at the very
moment that Jack Halford

was intending to
run down my client.

That the collision
was no accident

but a deliberate
act on your part

to ram Mr. Halford's car

in order to prevent
the murder of my client!

That's not true. No.

Really, Officer Pullman?

How can you possibly know?

You have no memory
of the incident.

Because I know Jack Halford.

Yes. I'm sure you do.

No further questions.

Mr. Halford, you've
stated how the accused

attacked both you and
Mr. Lane on the night in question.

I'd now like to ask you about
the death of your wife, Mary.

The coroner's verdict

was accidental death by
person or persons unknown.

Was, yes.

You have reason
to believe otherwise?

Yes.

On the night of February
the 20th last year,

in the Black Boy pub in Eltham,

the accused confessed to me
that he was the driver of the car

that ran down my wife.

Were there any witnesses?

Several.

All, unfortunately,
acquaintances of the accused.

- You have no proof.
- No.

Just one final thing.

In the hospital ward,

when the accused placed
a pillow over your face,

he said something to you.

Do you remember
his actual words?

Yes.

He said, "Jack. Jack.
Say hello to the wife."

Oh!

Thank you. That's
all, your honor.

In which case I
think that could be

an appropriate time
to adjourn for lunch.

The court will rise.

- And you are?
- James Blake.

I'm Julian's solicitor.

After my last experience,

I thought it wise
to protect myself.

Then I should start by
saying, Mr. Capshaw,

that since that last meeting
it's been reported to us

that you might be involved
in illegal transplant surgery.

What? Suggested by who?

To be more specific, we
believe that five years ago

you planned to remove
Naomi Wheeler's heart

and give it to a
private patient.

When you say you
"believe," Superintendent,

do you mean you don't
have any actual proof?

As Naomi lay
dying in your clinic,

you were overheard
having a phone conversation

in which you offered her heart

to the person at the
other end of the line.

Who were you calling?

I make countless phone calls.

But I've never offered

or been asked to supply
illegally harvested organs.

Am I to understand your
accusation is on the basis

of a one-sided conversation
reported to a third party?

We both know that
even these days

no phone company
keeps its records

for more than a couple
of years, let alone five.

I'm sorry, but under
the circumstances,

unless you intend to
charge Mr. Capshaw,

I think the sensible thing
would be to terminate this chat.

In that case, I'm sorry we
couldn't be more helpful.

You also told me
that it was your idea

Naomi's organs be donated.

We now know that to be a lie.

I have nothing further to add.

Well, that went well.

Mr. Halford, may I ask how
many times you arrested my client

during your time as a detective?

Five.

And how many times did
you secure a conviction?

None.

Not a very good success rate.

He had very good lawyers.

Would I be right in thinking
you resented this failure

to secure a conviction
against my client?

It's an occupational hazard.

Not for you, Mr. Halford.
Your record is second to none.

Isn't the truth of the matter

the death of your wife
left you exceedingly bitter

and that that bitterness
found a scapegoat in my client?

No.

You claim that my client
confessed to killing your wife.

Yes.

I take it you have no
evidence to support this claim

or you'd have pursued
the matter officially?

I'm still hopeful.

I believe you are, Mr. Halford.

Because isn't your desire
to see my client punished

an obsession rather
than a public duty?

- Objection.
- Overruled.

Carry on, Mr. Halford.

No. It's simply a wish
to see justice done.

Mr. Halford, I'm going
to ask you a question

that I asked another
of your colleagues.

I'd appreciate a candid
and honest answer.

Have you ever sought or received

any form of
psychiatric treatment?

No.

Can you tell the court how
long it is since your wife died?

Seven years.

Your wife was cremated,
am I right, Mr. Halford?

Yes.

And where did you
scatter her ashes?

I didn't.

So where are they kept now?

They're buried in
an urn in my garden.

A plaque adorns
the spot, does it not?

It does.

You often light candles
around the plaque?

On most nights, in fact?

Most nights, yes.

You sit before it on most
nights, do you not, drinking?

Objection!

I am almost
finished, your honor.

Mm. Go on.

Drinking. And talking.

Who do you talk to, Mr. Halford?

To my wife.

To your dead wife, Mary.

You talk to her
openly and candidly,

as though she were alive.

Indeed, and in a real sense

that her living spirit
inhabits that place.

Yes.

She's dead, Mr. Halford.

She's dead.

Okay, so there's a fair chance

Steven Davis shot Wheeler.

But who put him up to it?

Any joy, Brian?

Davis said the boat
was newly done up.

There was the name of a...

Yeah, Westreach Limited.

Run by a Bob Shelford.

He'll know the boat's
history if anyone will.

Mr. Shelford?

That's me.

Detective
Superintendent Pullman.

Tell us about the
Veiled Lady. The boat.

You worked on her. 2003.

Yeah. Nice boat.

And Karen knew how
to look after it and all.

Not like that tattooed tosser.

Karen who?

Palmer.

Karen Palmer.

What a shame.

Tragic. Dying so young.

Hold on, are you saying this
Karen Palmer owned the boat,

and now she's dead?

Heart.

Looks, brains, body.

Crap heart.

Don't make sense, does it?

I thought Tall Tree
Investments owned the boat.

Nah.

That's just for avoiding
tax and stuff, innit?

Allegedly.

No, it was Karen's
boat. Her pride and joy.

God knows how
Davis got hold of it.

I hope you realize
I've had to cancel

all my designated NHS
surgery today because of this.

Why don't you just shut
up and give your ass a rest?

I'm sorry, but
that's really not on.

Stephen Davis.
Tell us about him.

I've already told you.

His mother was in the
crash and later died.

He was very upset about it.

And who was he more upset
with... Ralph Wheeler or you?

Me?

For not saving his mum.

Absolutely not.

Oh, so you sent
him to your solicitor.

Well, I thought maybe
he could try to see if legally

there was some way he
could get compensation.

You mean you tried to
palm him off on your friend.

That's definitely
not what happened.

You sent him to your
solicitor and friend

to fight a hopeless legal case.

- Not hopeless.
- Well, how successful was it?

It was ill-advised,
and I told him so.

As I told you.

But that was nothing
to do with Julian.

And when the claim failed, what?

You gave Stephen
Davis a £350,000 boat

because you felt sorry for him?

You seem confused, Mr. Capshaw.

Let me explain.

The Veiled Lady is a
50-foot cabin cruiser

formerly owned by
Tall Tree Investments,

based... albeit tenuously...
In Grand Cayman.

In reality, the boat was
owned by a Miss Karen Palmer.

When she died, under
the terms of her will,

it passed to her
long-standing partner...

James Blake.

When did she die, Mr. Blake?

The death certificate said
the second of July, 2003.

You should remember,
Mr. Capshaw.

You signed it, after all.

You also put down
the cause of death.

What did she die of, Doctor?

Of a terminal heart condition.

Stephen Davis is very
a dangerous criminal

with a string of
convictions involving guns.

Now, in the light of this,

would you care to tell us

who you were offering
Naomi Wheeler's heart to

that night on the phone?

James Blake. He's
a lifelong friend.

I promised to do what
I could to help his...

To help Karen.

Ralph Wheeler and
Richard Manning

made that unworkable.

But I'd just like to
add, for the record,

I had absolutely no knowledge
of any plot to kill Mr. Wheeler.

I doubt if any of you
understand what it's like

to lose a soul mate,

let alone someone gifted
and beautiful, caring.

She loved life.

Had a brilliant legal mind.

Dedicated her life to others.

And she had to lose
out on a new heart,

a renewed life, for what?

For the sake of a
50-year-old worthless criminal?

You explain that to me.

So you thought that gave you
the right to exact revenge, huh?

Because your girlfriend
couldn't get a spare part?

People are not the same.

One life is not
equal to another.

Life is inherently unfair.

Excuse me. Where has
the Veiled Lady gone?

Ahoy there.

Going somewhere, Mr. Davis?

Bollocks.

So he looks up
at me, and I say...

"Going down?"

I just wanted to say thank
you. To all of you. Thanks.

It was Jack's idea. He
thought about the crash.

Just a good guess.

I don't think so.
Know-how, I'd call it.

Old-fashioned.

There's nothing
old-fashioned about class.

- Quite a result.
- Thank you, sir.

Let's hope you have
another one in court.

Hanson's about to give evidence.

I've got to go.
I'll see you later.

- Good luck.
- Cheers.

What did Jack Halford say to you

in the bar of the Black
Boy public house that night?

He accused me
of killing his wife.

Running her down in a car.

And what did you say?

I told him he was mad,

that I had no idea what
he was talking about,

and that he had no right
coming into my local,

telling lies about me.

- Then what?
- He left.

Two nights later, you
were in the same pub.

What happened?

I was having a
pint... One pint...

With some mates, and
then I left to go home.

I walked out into the car park
and was heading towards me car

when I heard another
car gunning its engine.

I turned 'round
and sees this car,

headlights on, racing
straight towards me.

What did you do?

Nothing.

Couldn't move. I was frozen.

Next thing I know,

this other car comes
flying into the car park

and slams straight into
the side of the first one,

taking it right out.

Then what?

The door of the car that tried
to mow me down swings open,

and the driver falls out.

And who was the driver?

Him.

Jack Halford over there.

Let the record show that
the defendant has identified

former Chief
Superintendent John Halford

of the Unsolved Crime
and Open Case Squad.

Now, two nights later

you decided to visit Mr. Halford
at hospital, am I right?

Yes.

Why?

I wanted to ask him
who said I'd killed his wife.

And to tell him
again it weren't true.

Mr. Halford claimed
you attacked him.

No.

He claims that you tried to
suffocate him with a pillow

after saying the words, "Jack.
Jack. Say hello to the wife."

I never touched no pillow.

When I got in there
he was half-asleep,

so I sat down on
the edge of the bed

and pushed him with
my hand to wake him up.

He woke up, and
I said, "Jack. Jack.

Who says I totaled your wife?"

"Totaled"?

Yeah. Knocked off.

Murdered.

What did he say?

I don't know. I got
smacked from behind.

Next thing I remember
is waking up under arrest

with a whacking great
lump on me head.

Let me get this straight.

You did not go to
that hospital ward

with the intention of
killing Jack Halford?

No. No way. Not at all.

Why not?

What?

Why not try to kill him?
Hadn't he tried to kill you?

- Objection.
- Sustained.

Do you believe that Jack Halford

deliberately tried
to run you down?

I don't know.

I only know if it hadn't been
for the other car hitting him,

I wouldn't be here now.

Do you bear any ill will
towards Mr. Halford?

No.

I think he's an
unhappy and lonely man

who's never come to terms
with the death of his wife.

And I understand that.

Thank you, Mr. Hanson.
No further questions.

Just a few hours,
and it'll be all over.

Oh, I know. It was outrageous.

He's a silver-tongued bastard.

But don't you worry.
He's not fooling anybody.

How does he sleep nights?

Huh. I have no idea.

"Good luck. We're
all thinking of you."

Well, I know who
I'm thinking of.

The accused will rise.

Ladies and
gentlemen of the jury,

have you reached a verdict?

We have, your honor.

And how do you
find the defendant...

Guilty or not guilty
of attempted murder?

Not guilty, your honor.

Get in, you beauty.

Yes!

I see fields of green.

Don't.

Don't say anything.

We'll need to keep
an eye on him.

- Hiya.
- Have you been here all night?

No. No, I took over
from Brian an hour ago.

Yeah, that's what Jack
reckoned. He's gone.

Well, fridge is empty.

Nothing.

But he's done his
paperwork, paid his bills.

Immaculate. Like someone who...

You don't think he's...

No, no. There's stuff missing
from the hall cupboard.

Wet-weather gear. Boots.

I don't know where he's gone.
But I do know he's coming back.

Look.

Mary.

He'd never leave her.

He'd have her moved
or take her with him.

No, he's coming back.

♪ It's all right, it's okay ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪

♪ It's all right, I
say it's okay ♪

♪ Listen to what I say ♪

♪ It's all right, doing fine ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪

♪ It's all right, I
say it's okay ♪

♪ We're getting to
the end of the day ♪

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